


How long will I love you?

by potterbite



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, I Love You
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1200327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterbite/pseuds/potterbite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First meeting, First kiss, First date, I love you, Will you marry me? and Forever. Nothing more or less than Captain Swan fluff. Inspired by the Ellie Goulding song "How long will I love you".</p>
            </blockquote>





	How long will I love you?

_How long will I love you?_

_As long as stars are above you_

_And longer, if I can_

Ellie Goulding – How long will I love you

* * *

**First meeting.**

"Look, there's someone under there!" Aurora called, running over to a pile of dead bodies. She and Mulan started moving them, in order to reach the man under it all; Emma stood back and watched, a bad feeling in her stomach about it.

"It's okay, you're safe now, we won't hurt you," Mary Margaret comforted, and the man met her eyes.

"Thank you," he answered sincerely, and Emma heard a glimmer of truth in is voice, but she also knew something wasn't right.

He then looked up to meet Emma's eyes, and the only thing she could think was ' _Crap_.'

* * *

**First kiss.**

"That was what the thank you was for," she smirked at him, feeling ridiculously like a school girl who didn't know how to behave when a man was close – she  _always_  knew what to say or do, mostly because she was never interested in those men or women that flirted with her. Now all of a sudden every single one of her thoughts of something clever to say had vanished and she was left with stating the obvious. Thank you captain.

"Is that all your father's life is worth to you?" he grinned, stepping closer.

"Please, you couldn't handle it." She said it to make him back down, but she should've known better – of course Captain Hook wouldn't back down from a challenge.

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," he replied, his voice between a whisper and a murmur, doing strange things to her body and mind.

A moment of silence fell where they locked their eyes, and when Emma got tired of his confident smirk she thought, ' _To hell with it'_ , and gripped his collar with all the strength she had and pulled his face towards hers to meet his lips in a battle neither of them could win.

He seemed taken aback that she'd actually done it, but he recovered quickly and lifted his hand to put on the back of her head just as their lips broke for a split second – as if they were both allowing the other to step away – before meeting again, tugging at each other's lips, until finally they just breathed each other in, mere inches apart.

Emma broke the kiss with an unsteady step backwards, still holding the lapels of his coat in a firm grip, as he slowly rubbed his nose against hers when he spoke.

"That was – "

He was obviously as shaken up as she was, and it was the sound of his voice that manage to break her out of it, to move away when he started in for a second kiss.

"A one-time thing," she finished his sentence, releasing her grip on him and taking several steps backwards at once. She turned around to leave. "Don't follow me, wait a few minutes and go get some firewood or something." She tried to get a hold of her breathing, to not be affected by what had just happened –

"As you wish." His words made her smile, but once out of his sight she sat down leaning against a tree and thought, ' _Jesus Christ of all that's holy, I'm in big trouble'_.

* * *

**First date.**

"I'm not sure about this dress," Emma said, squirming in front of the mirror in her bedroom, tugging at the hem, trying to make the best out of it.

"Stop fidgeting, you look beautiful," Mary Margaret said from the doorway.

"But isn't a dress a little over the top for a first date?" She tilted her head and squinted at her reflection.

"Of course not."

Emma thought for a moment. "Do you think Henry's alright with Regina and Robin?"

"Emma, she raised him. And he loves Roland too, so why wouldn't Henry have a wonderful evening there?"

"Emma, you already know he cares very much about you," came David's voice as he walked in and sat down on her bed. "Stop trying to come up with excuses not to go." He fixed her with his eyes, and she cursed.

"I forget you and I are so much alike," she sighed. "Do I look okay?"

"You look gorgeous, as always," he answered and rose to give her a peck on the cheek. A knock on the door made her jump, and David smile. "I'll get it!"

He and Killian had been spending quite some time together since everyone in Storybrooke had managed to defeat the wicked witch, and apparently they'd bonded even more in the year they spent in the Enchanted forest – a year David had forgotten due to the curse the witch had cast, but had remembered again when she was overpowered. They were practically inseparable these days.

Emma took a deep breath before she went out to the hallway along with her mother – and instantly lost all nerves and hesitations she'd had when she met Killian's eyes. He seemed to approve her dress, since he stopped listening to what David was saying.

"Killian?" David asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Hm, sorry, what did you say mate?" Killian shook his head and tried – but failed – to focus his eyes on David again. David turned around to see what was distracting his friend, and chuckled when he saw his daughter.

"I see," he grinned. "We'll talk another day." He gave Killian a pat on the shoulder, and went back into the apartment – taking Mary Margaret with him – without another word, only exchanging an amused look with his daughter as he walked past her.

"You're wearing normal clothes!" Emma marveled when she got closer to him. He grunted, apparently still at loss for words, his gaze trailing over her body every few seconds making her feel like a goddess. "Not that I didn't enjoy your whole leather fetish, but this is kind of hot." She eyed him again, taking in how his jeans formed his legs, how his shirt wasn't buttoned all the way (she'd been surprised if it had been honestly), how his leather jacket lay against his arms. "New jacket?" she mused, trying not to lick her lips. It was black – of course – but otherwise looked a lot like Emma's.

He raised an eyebrow and cautiously said, "Yes."

"You're all nerves tonight, aren't you?" she remarked when his breathing staggered as she took a step closer to him. "Let's get this over with right away then."

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck before slowly – deliberately so – brushing her lips against his, exhaling into his mouth, relishing in his still unsteady breathing. She then backed up a few inches, but stayed close to him, waiting for him to open his eyes – which he didn't do.

"Oh no, I don't believe that covers it," he said, the smile evident on his voice, and pulled her back in for a kiss – a real one, and boy was it real. He didn't exactly tug her back to him roughly, but she still fell into his chest and let out a small huff as their lips met again, and couldn't hold back a moan when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

Would she never learn to not challenge an ex-pirate? (Probably not).

At the sound of someone clearing their throat, they broke apart – to soon, always too soon – and apologized to David as Emma's face went red, before they went out to eat some dinner, resisting the urge to head back to his ship immediately.

At the restaurant, they were seated by a young woman not older than twenty who eyed Killian too many times within the few feet from the entrance to their table; Emma gave her a cold stare, which she either ignored or didn't see because she was busy ogling the man taking of his jacket and hanging it on his chair.

"Do you want to hear today's specials?" the waitress – named Persephone no less, could she be any more ridiculous – asked cheerfully; too cheerfully; it actually made Emma flinch.

"No, just the menu," Emma replied, realizing Killian would probably answer ' _yes, please_ ' if she didn't intervene, since he always had to be so freaking nice to everyone since he found her in New York. Not that she complained when he was pleasant to her family and friends, but did he really have to be so damn lovely to complete strangers who just happened to be women who thought he was flirting with them, and what did Emma know, maybe he was and before she knew it he'd probably –

"Swan?" Killian wondered, breaking her train of thought.

"Sorry, what?"

"Do you want some wine?"

Persephone waited patiently, not even looking away from Killian when Emma told her what kind of wine she'd like. Emma snorted.

"What?" Killian asked, looking confused. Emma was never a thinker, she had always been a doer and she sure as hell wouldn't stop now, so she turned her eyes over to Persephone.

"Can I help you?" Emma said coldly. At her words, Persephone did turn her eyes towards Emma with a polite smile.

"What?"

"Stop ogling him and get us our damn dinner." Persephone actually had the decency to blush, and as she left their table Emma called her some foul names under her breath.

Killian smirked. "Was she bothering you?"

"Apparently not you."

"Sorry, love, but I was busy trying to distract myself from wanting to hurt the gentleman at the bar." He made a small nod towards the bar and Emma turned to see what he was talking about, and noticed a man – rather good looking as well – staring at her.

Not able to help herself, she laughed. "Good to know we're a hot as hell couple." She gave the man a dazzling smile before turning to Killian again; she leant across the table and kissed him easily. "Let's just hope Persephone doesn't spit in my food."

* * *

**I love you.**

"You know what I love most about this?" Emma asked, gesturing wildly with her cuttlery.

"Your salmon?" Killian retorted, his eyebrows going high up in his forehead.

"Yes. It's absolutely perfect. You can never go wrong with salmon, that's all I'm saying." She took a large piece into her mouth, chewing happily.

"So you love the salmon?"

"Without a doubt." Another bite.  _Darn, those salmons should come with a licens_ e, she thought to herself.

"Nothing else?"

"What do you mean?" she wondered, preoccupied with trying to catch a pea with her fork.

"You know, for someone that's an expert at seeing through lies you can be a bit thick sometimes, darling."

At this, she looked up to roll her eyes at him. "How much have you been drinking?" She reached for her glass.

"I love you, Emma." She froze with the drink halfway to her mouth, and he let out a small chuckle. "Are you actually surprised by this?"

"Well, no, but – "

"I'm not asking for anything, love, I just wanted to say it." He took a bite of her salmon from her plate and ate it. "How was your day?"

"How – what?"

"Did you have a good day?"

"You can't just say something like that and then continue talking like nothing happened!"

"No? Watch me."

He added nothing else, and Emma squirmed in her seat. Of course she had very strong feelings for him, otherwise she wouldn't have been with him for the past six months, but LOVE? That was big. She'd only said it to Henry – and Neal when she was young and naïve – and barely to her parents.

"I – " she began, but was unable to form the words. Not that she knew what she was about to say anyway.

"Let's head home, shall we?" he asked, and took her hand without waiting for a reply, paying for their dinner on their way out.

Later, she watched him breathe when they lay in bed, legs thrown over his lazily. She hadn't known he was awake if it hadn't been for his fingers trailing along her arm up and down and back again, so in the darkness she found her courage and whispered, "I love you too, Killian."

"I know," he replied and flung his arm over her waist and hugged hard.

* * *

**Will you marry me?**

She lay next to him in their bed – a bed they'd shared for almost two years, when Emma had suggested they move in together since he was practically living there anyway – with her head resting on his chest.

"Do you ever think about marriage?" he asked after they'd lain in silence for over half an hour, just listening to each other's heartbeats.

"In what way?" she wondered absentmindedly, making small circles on his torso with her forefinger, never really getting tired of his perfect chest (you'd think she was immune after three years had passed since she saw it for the first time – not counting the year prior when he was practically undoing a new button in his vest every week).

"In our way," he simply stated, toying with one of her curls between his fingers.

"Sure." She didn't have to think about it because of course she had thought about it in the years they'd been together – who wouldn't? She had the perfect (somewhat too perfect but still tortured) boyfriend, who loved her in a way she'd never before experienced and she felt exactly the same about him, so naturally she thought about the future with him. Sometimes she did it to practice her instinct to run, and she thought she'd gotten really good at it; most of the times she just had to take a few deep breaths afterwards, whilst a few years back she almost passed out (one time she actually did) when she just brushed passed the subject in her mind. She still struggled with it sometimes, that it was reality how much he loved her and would never leave.

"You want to?"

She lifted her head and put her chin on his chest instead to be able to look him in the eyes. Her heart sped up at his words, but she managed to sound fairly normal when she said, "Get married? To you?"

"I wouldn't object." He tilted the corner of his mouth upwards and calmness spread through her body, but she still hesitated. "I was planning on doing this more properly. Hang on, I saw it in one of those movies you love so much," he added, and climbed out of bed – stark naked – and walked around to her side of the bed to go down on one knee. "Emma, I'll love you as long as I have air in my lungs and I'll be here with you as long as you'll have me. Will you marry me?"

Speechless, and with wet eyes, she only got out a hoarse whisper, containing the only word she really wanted to say. "Yes."

* * *

**I'm pregnant.**

"Killian, can you get in here?" she called from the bathroom. She held a plastic stick in her hand and sat on the floor, still staring at it when Killian popped his head inside.

"What is it, love?"

"Look." She held it out for him to see; he sat down next to her and took it before turning it in his hand, a little frown on his face.

"What am I looking at?"

She gave him the box with the instructions on them, and waited for him to get it with butterflies in her stomach – and something else now, a child who would know so much love it would be ridiculous. A child she would keep, and care for, and the father being there, the love of her life.

When he understood, there was an intake of breath. "Are you?"

"Yes," she laughed, and so did he.

"Henry is going to love this," he marveled after a few minutes of leaning his head against her stomach, trying to hear something even though she explained the child was still too small. "A brother or a sister to go with him on his ship!"

For his fifteenth birthday, Killian had gotten Henry a boat – bought mostly with her father's money too since he himself hadn't been able to save up enough – which he loved and was now planning on joining a sailing team as soon as he found one close to Storybrooke.

"Take it easy, let's let the poor thing be born before you and Henry try to force the sailor's life on him or her," she said happily, grinning like an idiot.

"David – " he began, beginning to rise from the floor as if the thought had suddenly occured to him.

"Oh no you don't!" She caught his shirt and managed to prevent him. "You are not calling him, best friend or not." He pouted. "But you might kiss me if you'd like."

* * *

**Forever.**

Of course she'd be the first one to die; life had only been fair to him since he met her, so why would he get to die first? It came as no surprise to anyone, since she'd been ill a long time, almost for two whole years before she turned 85; she died in her sleep in her and Killian's bed – per her own request being at home instead of the hospital – clutching his hand and he hers.

He hadn't been sleeping well, or any, for the last months, but that night he did fall asleep and woke when she died, with a pain in his chest that made it hard to breathe, so he just  _knew_  she was gone.

The following night, he went to bed feeling drained of everything – which wasn't very strange at all, because losing a loved one was one of the hardest things to go through, no matter if you were prepared or not – but pleased with himself for getting through the day. Henry, Liam and Hope had promised to come down with their families to keep him company as soon as they could, and they had all spent an hour each on the phone with Killian, remembering stories about their mother, and crying together.

He looked up at the ceiling, thinking about the last fifty years of his life, how wonderful they'd been, and how far away from the future he'd thought he would get 200 years earlier they were. He supposed 390 years, give or take a decade or two, was a good number – more than anyone could wish for – but his years with Emma and their children had been worth several lifetimes, and had been worth every single moment of pain he'd endured before he met her.

He closed his eyes, and fell asleep with thoughts of Emma.

"Killian," Emma's voice spoke to him a few minutes later; he had to be dreaming.

"Emma?"

Slowly he opened his eyes, and was met by a blinding white light and his beautiful princess, looking just as she had before she'd become ill, dressed in a white gown that barely touched the floor underneath it, her toes sticking out.

"It's me," she murmured, taking his hand; he almost recoiled at the contact because it was really her, his precious angel.

"Am I dead?" he asked and tried to meet her gaze; when he did, it was all the answer he needed. "Guess I never could live properly without you, neither before nor after," he said softly, letting go of her hand to touch her wet cheek, to wipe away her tears.

"This isn't – "

He shushed her, and simply stated, "Wherever you are, my heart is."

She smiled, and took his hand again to lead him through the tunnel they stood in to face whatever was there.

"They'll be so happy to see you," she mumbled.

"Who?"

"My parents, my father especially," she laughed. "Your brother has been waiting a long time for this reunion, obviously not hoping for it because he wished you a life, a happy one. Regardless, he'll be thrilled." When he only stared at her, she said, "What?"

"Gods, woman, I love you to heaven and back."

"Always?" she sang, squeezing his hand.

"Forever."

* * *

_How long will I be with you?_

_A long as the sea is bound to_

_Wash upon the sand._

Ellie Goulding – How long will I love you


End file.
